


HELP

by eeyore1222



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore1222/pseuds/eeyore1222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three months and 22 days apart, Shaw asks for Root's help.<br/>Fluff. just to prepare myself for the cruelness of 421.<br/>Chinses version at: http://eeyore1222.lofter.com/post/1d0e72a1_6c34450</p>
            </blockquote>





	HELP

Help

***

“Root, I need your help.”

“Shaw, where are you?”

Root panicked. It must be a really dangerous situation for Sameen Shaw, of all people, to call her out of the blue, at the middle of the night, asking for … what? Help? She doesn’t even know that Shaw ever pronounces the word.

“I’m, ah … just outside your apartment.”

She rushed through the living room to get to the door, imagining in all the three seconds that the journey took all kinds of terrible scenarios. Shaw being shot; Shaw in blood; Shaw’s life in dire danger … Her fingers were shaking when they reached the door knob.

She didn’t expect to see Shaw being … well, normal. Other than seriously drunk, the short woman in absolute black attire was just the normal version of her most favorite former ISA agent. 

She’d seen Shaw drunk. But Sameen Shaw is a woman of high alcohol tolerance. Shaw doesn’t get THIS drunk. Not that she’d known of. The woman before her eyes could hardly stand, holding on barely to the doorframe of her apartment.

“What happened to you, Sameen?” She supported a Vodka smelling Shaw on her arms and tried to move both of them into the living room. Vodka isn’t Sameen Shaw’s choice of strong alcohol either. The former agent she knows prefers Whiskey. Something was wrong.

“Why are you so drunk?” She put Shaw down on the sofa and was about walking away to get a glass of juice. The drunk woman pulled her arm to make her stay.

“Please, Root, help me get off.”

“Wh… WHAT?!”

“Help me, I really need it. I tried everything. Not even Vodka worked.”

She had to make sure that Shaw was not speaking in delirium. “What do you mean by everything?”

“I tried each and every possible DIY method. I even used toys. I used toys PLUS alcohol. Nothing worked. You are my last resort.”

“Why are you so desperate in the first place?”

“Hell, Root! We haven’t seen each other in … what? More than three months?”

Three months and 22 days. Root had been counting too.

“What did you used to do in such a situation before we … became, well, friends with benefits, Shaw?”

“Before we were ‘friends’, Root, this really was easy for me. I could just grab a guy from the street and fuck the brain out of him.”

Root just couldn’t give up the chance to tease Shaw a little. This was precious. This was pure gold.

“And why can’t you do that right now? I am not the one stopping you.”

“You idiot …” Shaw finally got level-headed enough to sit up a little in the sofa. From that position she could just jump Root, as she had done dozens of times. But today she could not. Her limbs gave up and she sank back again. “You are, stopping me. It’s all your fault.”

Root grinned widely till her facial muscles hurt. “Since it’s all my fault, let me solve your problems then, sweetie. Let me help you.”

I’ll always help you, Sameen. She thought as her steady fingers removed Shaw’s black shirt.

FIN


End file.
